


Home

by ShakesDarkLady



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 06:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakesDarkLady/pseuds/ShakesDarkLady
Summary: Patsy and Delia are reunited following the death of Patsy's father.





	

The post-wedding festivities are in full-swing. Music and joyous laughter ring out in the chilled night air. Smiling faces shine in the light reflected from the bright, rotating carousel. All but one bask in the happiness of the evening. 

Delia wanders through the throngs of Poplar residents, eyes wistfully taking in their surroundings. Newlyweds Barbara and Tom share kisses. Trixie and Christopher take turns riding with his daughter on the carousel. Dr. Turner and Shelagh dote on their newborn son. On a day dedicated to love, Delia feels utterly lost and alone. Like a ghost, unseen by those around her as they go on about their lives. Each day that passes with no word from Hong Kong, Delia feels as though she vanishes just a bit more. She hadn’t meant to spill her soul to the unsuspecting woman at the Gateways Club, though the numerous glasses of wine had certainly lowered her inhibitions. 

Letters from Patsy had arrived in regular intervals when she had first left. However, as the months passed, they came less frequently. The time between each one stretched longer and longer until they had ceased completely. Just over a month after the final letter, Delia had stumbled across Patsy’s father’s name in the obituaries. Her heart sank in that moment. She knew the redhead withdrew as a coping mechanism. Yet, not having been notified about his passing seemed to only compound the distance and Delia’s increasing sense of isolation and heartache. 

Initially Phyllis had been a wealth of support but the older midwife had been experiencing her own difficulties. This is how Delia had wound up at the Gates, alone and fairly inebriated. 

Pulling herself from her thoughts, Delia turns her eyes from the carousel and casually scans her surroundings. As her gaze drifts across the entranceway to the cul-de-sac, the sight of red hair, styled high, catches her attention. She focuses on the sight as a hand raises in a slight wave. Delia’s heart stops. She momentarily forgets how to breathe. Complete and utter disbelief surges through her. She blinks, testing the reliability of her eyes. The vision before her does not disappear. Instead it becomes sharper as her feet carry her forward.

As she approaches, Delia diverts her eyes for fear of the other woman noticing the tears gathering. She withdraws her hands from her coat pockets and latches onto one of the redheads as she draws even with her. She does not stop walking, however, leading the tall midwife away from the crowds. 

Within her, Delia’s emotions are at war. She is angry. So angry. This woman shows up after months of no contact and waves. She is sad. The redhead looks so broken, so unsure of herself. Much the way Delia has felt over their months apart. Delia is uncertain. Of what may have transpired for the other woman in Hong Kong. Of what will come now that she had returned. And Delia is relieved. The woman she is so utterly in love with is standing before her, home at last. 

When they emerge from beneath the bridge, Delia pulls her forward, indicating to the other woman to face her. Finally, she is able to bring her eyes to the redhead’s face. The other woman looks tired and worn, her eyes directed towards the ground. 

Delia steels herself for whichever direction this interaction may take. 

Patsy eventually raises her eyes to meet Delia’s deep blues. “I got on the boat the day after the funeral,” she offers in a half-hearted sort of defense. 

“I didn’t know…” Delia’s voice momentarily fails her. She swallows the lump that had formed in her throat and shakes her head. “I didn’t know if you were coming back.”

“I did,” Patsy vehemently replies. “I always did.” 

Delia’s eyes search the other woman’s. Patsy’s assurance is sincere, each word acting as a soothing salve for Delia’s aching heart. The redhead rarely spoke so openly in regard to their relationship. 

“And wherever I go next, you’re coming with me.” Patsy’s words are punctuated with a tug at Delia’s arm, pulling her into a kiss so heartfelt it steals Delia’s breath away. 

The brunette brings her hand up to rest against Patsy’s cheek as the other woman wraps her more securely in her arms. In the back of her mind, Delia knows it’s risky but at the moment, she can’t bring herself to care. 

Yes, there is so much more for them to discuss but for now, it can wait. 

It’s not an especially long kiss but it is perhaps the most intimate, the most promising the two have shared. 

Delia feels Patsy grasp her elbow in a silent effort to draw them both back to their surroundings. The Welshwoman steals one last kiss before stepping back, her hands drifting down Patsy’s arms to briefly hold her hands. They share a shy smile as Delia puts more distance between them, a slight swagger to her step. 

As they drift back under the bridge, Delia snatches up Patsy’s suitcase. Their path back toward Nonnatus is suddenly blocked. 

“Welcome back, lass,” Phyllis Crane greetings, shaking Patsy’s hand. “May I speak with young Nurse Busby for a moment?” 

Perplexed, Patsy nods and watches as Delia is led a few feet away. 

“Go and pack an overnight bag and meet Nurse Mount and I by my car,” the older nurse instructs. She walks away before Delia can inquire as to why. The Welshwoman heads off to Nonnatus obediently. 

Phyllis crosses back to Patsy, nodding her head to indicate the redhead follow her away from the jovial crowd. “I was asked to park my motor car down the street to make room for that gaudy monstrosity back there.” When they reach the vehicle, Phyllis turns to face Patsy. “I was saddened to hear of your father’s passing, though I’m sure it is a comfort to you to know he is no longer in pain.” 

“Yes, it does. Thank you,” Patsy nods in affirmation, shifting uncomfortably under the older woman’s shrewd gaze. 

“Listen, lass, I know these are difficult times for you but you need to make things right with that young woman. She’s had a hard time of it while you’ve been away. You need to make sure she knows exactly where she stands with you.” 

“I-“ Patsy opens her mouth to protest but something in Nurse Crane’s expression halts her. “I know,” she murmurs. 

“Good on you, then,” Phyllis supplies, touching her shoulder. “There’s a hotel about 10 minutes from here. Miss Busby will know the one; her and I enjoyed a cup of tea there this summer. Take the time before the others learn of your return.” 

Hearing footsteps approaching, both midwives turn to the Welshwoman. Phyllis places a set of keys into Delia’s palm. “You’ll know what to do with these.” And with that, she departs. 

Patsy and Delia share a smile. “Shall we?” the brunette asks, indicating the car beside them. 

“Yes,” Patsy responds before they tuck their bags into the back seat and climb into the vehicle. 

“Where are we off to then?” Delia asks. 

“She mentioned a hotel you two had a stopped at this past summer,” Patsy replies with a shrug. 

Delia smiles knowingly as she starts the car and puts it in gear. Perfectly, she navigates them through the streets of East London, further into the city. 

Feeling more relaxed than she had in months, Patsy allows her hand to rest on the Welshwoman’s thigh. “Phyllis knows?” she asks tentatively. 

Delia smiles fondly. “She does. She happened upon me leaving your room before you left. She’s been a great support, helping me study and keeping my mind occupied.”

Surprisingly, the revelation doesn’t unnerve Patsy. Instead, she finds herself grateful Delia had someone to talk to while she was in Hong Kong. She affectionately squeezes the brunette’s thigh. She cannot tear her eyes away from Delia. Tonight, she looks especially stunning. Patsy is unsure whether it’s due to the time apart or beautiful up-do and gorgeous blue dress. Perhaps a combination of both. She resists the urge to lean across the distance and place kisses along her jaw. 

Delia can feel the redhead’s gaze upon her. “You’re staring.”

“I am,” Patsy admits, unabashedly. 

Delia chuckles as she brings the car to a stop outside the hotel. They exit, grabbing their bags, and enter the building. Inside, Patsy indicates for Delia to head towards the elevators. At the front desk, she asks the concierge for a room with one bed. The young man makes small talk as she pays. 

When she receives the keys, she meets Delia and the two take the elevator to the fourth floor. “Apparently, there are very few guests tonight. We have the entire floor to ourselves according to the chap downstairs.” 

“Is that so?” Delia asks, one eyebrow perfectly arched and a cheeky smirk upon her face. 

Delia holds Patsy’s suitcase along with her own overnight bag as the redhead unlocks the door. The Welshwoman steps into the room, placing the luggage down by the dresser. Patsy closes the door, locking it, and approaches Delia, wrapping her arms around her wait from behind. 

“Pats,” Delia sighs, leaning back into the embrace. 

“Gosh, I’ve missed you,” Patsy whispers, brushing chestnut brown locks aside and placing gentle kisses to the newly exposed skin. 

Delia indulges in the moment before turning in the redhead’s arms, seizing her lips in a fiery kiss. Her hands snake beneath Patsy’s coat, slipping it off her shoulders. Not breaking the kiss, she drops her own coat to the floor as well. She returns her hands to Patsy, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of her shirt. 

Patsy lays steadying hands over the other woman’s. “Let me,” she offers as she places a gentle kiss to her lips. She releases the buttons on her shirt one by one, watching as the Welshwoman’s eyes darken with each one released. Her shirt joins both coats. “Turn around.” 

Delia does as Patsy asked, baring her back to the other woman. Patsy slowly untracks the zipper, her lips following the path of uncovered skin. The dress slides effortlessly from her body as she turns to face Patsy again. The midwife’s eyes drink in the sight of a white silk bra and panties and garters attached to her smooth, sheer stockings. Stepping closer, Patsy trails her fingers across the smooth skin of Delia’s stomach. A shiver passes through the brunette’s body at the contact, her eyes drifting closed. 

Her hands a bit steadier, Delia unsnaps the button and unzips the redhead’s pants. Patsy backs up to the edge of the bed, tugging the younger woman with her. She sits on the edge and replaces her fingers with her lips against Delia’s abdomen. 

The Welshwoman threads her fingers into red locks, urging the other woman closer. When she feels the brush of a tongue against her bellybutton, her knees tremble, threatening to give way. 

Patsy tucks a hand behind each knee, bringing them to rest astride her lap. Her eyes lock with Delia’s as she runs her fingers across her back, up to the clasp of her bra. She releases it and eases the straps down before tossing the item aside. She kisses Delia’s lips for a moment before trailing down along her neck, taking the opportunity to nip lightly at her pulse point. She continues on, her tongue traversing the swell of one breast as her fingers dance across the other. 

Delia’s breathing becomes more erratic when Patsy’s tongue swirls around one hardened peak, her thumb circling the other. Her hips surge forward, brushing against the midwife’s stomach. The brief friction is tortuous. “God, Patsy… I need-“ Words fail her. Instead she repeats her previous movement. 

Patsy returns her mouth to Delia’s, their tongues meeting. Her hand journeys downward. Fingers toy with the elastic of the younger woman’s knickers. 

“Please,” Delia pleads, barely breaking the kiss. 

Receiving confirmation, the redhead slips her hand into the white silk. She is met with wet heat. One finger swipes over her clit causing Delia once more to surge forward, seeking more contact. “Cariad…” Her Welsh lilt is impossibly thicker than its usual tone. She rests her forehead against the midwife’s, panting heavily as Patsy’s finger draws tighter circles around the bundle of nerves. 

The rhythm of Delia’s hips becomes increasingly erratic with each pass until they cease all together, her back arching, eyes shut, breath caught in her throat following a sharp intake of air. 

Patsy’s runs her fingers through the heat one final time before removing her hand. She brings her lips to Delia’s, soothing her with soft kisses. 

After a moment, Delia is able to move her limbs again. She unclasps Patsy’s bra before nudging her, indicating for her to back further onto the bed. Following Patsy, she moves with her and crawls above her when the midwife rests her head against a pillow. “It’s been so long since I’ve held you like this,” Delia whispers, kissing Patsy gently. Tilting her head, she brings her lips to the redhead’s ear. “While you were away, I spent so many nights lying in bed, dreaming you were with me,” she whispers,” Of how I would kiss you. Of how I would touch you.” She punctuates her words with a playful nip to her earlobe, eliciting a groan from the older woman. “And now, you’re here,” Delia breathes, running her tongue down the column of Patsy’s neck, across her collarbone and into the valley between her breasts. Glancing up, she catches the midwife’s hazy gaze and smiles mischievously. “I don’t have to dream anymore.” She envelopes one hard nipple with her tongue, drawing it into her mouth. 

Patsy arches, pushing herself further into Delia’s ministrations. She groans loudly, unafraid of being heard. 

Delia repeats her actions to the other breast before trailing her tongue down the soft plains of Patsy’s stomach. The redhead’s hips begin to rise from the bed, seeking physical contact. Delia chuckles as she hooks her fingers into each side of the midwife’s knickers, drawing them down. She wraps an arm around one of Patsy’s thighs, effectively pinning her to the bed. “Patience, cariad,” she teases, nipping at inside of the other woman’s thigh. “You are so beautiful.” 

Delia adores watching the normally composed woman come undone at her touch. These moments of utter vulnerability make the Welshwoman fall even more in love with Patsy. Unable to resist any longer, Delia runs her tongue across the redhead’s core, releasing a moan against her clit. A sharp gasp falls upon her ears. She circles a few times before bringing two fingers to swirl around her entrance, dipping slightly in then drawing back. 

“More, please…” Patsy pants, her voice strained as her hips unsuccessfully attempt to follow the younger woman’s fingers. 

Delia acquiesces, her fingers slipping in entirely, setting a steady rhythm as she continues her attention to Patsy’s clit. The typically nearly-silent Patsy fights to keep the volume of her voice in check but fails as the brunette increases her pace. “Delia,” she calls out as the coiling feeling in her abdomen grows before releasing suddenly, lights exploding behind her eyes. 

As Patsy’s breathing calms, Delia trails her way back up her long, lithe body before drawing her into a passionate kiss. 

Her eyes still closed, a tear slips down the side of Patsy’s cheek as Delia pulls back from their kiss. “Oh, sweetheart,” Delia croons, pressing her lips to the tear drop. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Patsy sobs, tears now streaming from both eyes. 

Delia rolls onto her back, pulling Patsy with her, her head now resting on the Welshwoman’s chest. She places soothing kisses to red hair. “I’ve got you, cariad. It’s okay. You’re home.”


End file.
